


dressing bad is like loving you

by snoopypez



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2431175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoopypez/pseuds/snoopypez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Vecchio showed up to work in a pair of worn jeans was the same day Ray lost his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dressing bad is like loving you

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on livejournal in 2009

The day Vecchio showed up to work in a pair of worn jeans was the same day Ray lost his mind. If asked, he would have insisted the two were not connected in any way, thank you very much and oh yeah, mind your own damn business.

Which, okay, that was a lie, because it was strange to say the least – seeing Vecchio like that. Sure, the guy didn't _always_ wear a tie, but he almost always wore a suit coat, ones that looked really soft and much nicer than the blazers Ray sometimes threw on. And he was pretty sure he had never, _ever_ seen Vecchio in pants that were freakin' _denim_.

So it wasn't really the t-shirt that threw Ray off, though that was weird, too. Ray could see Vecchio's _arms_. What was _that_ about?

And it wasn't really the sneakers that made him do a double-take.

No, it was the jeans. And seriously, they weren't even _new_ \--the material looked well-washed, and the cuffs were beginning to fray. Not that Ray noticed or anything.

And he definitely didn't notice the really bizarre fact that Vecchio's ass looked pretty appealing, either. Nope, there was none of that going on here.

So it made sense that Ray was going crazy, right, what with all the wackiness surrounding him, and he hadn't gotten much sleep recently, and suddenly he was wondering how Vecchio would look in one of _his_ shirts and—

_No_!

Ray spent the remainder of the day chewing on pens and toothpicks even more than he normally did, trying to keep his mind on work, and - totally against his will - keeping stalker-like tabs on every move Vecchio made.

The next day, Vecchio looked like he always did; perfectly coordinated and all smooth lines and angles. And Ray suddenly became a lot more interested in pulling on Vecchio's tie to see what kind of reaction it got.

Because apparently the other day flipped a switch somewhere, and now Ray kept having these _thoughts_. Thoughts like the tie thing, and wondering if Vecchio's shirt was as soft as it looked, and you know, his nose was actually kind of _nice_ when Ray thought about it.

And seriously, what the hell? How was Ray supposed to get any work done when he kept thinking about Vecchio's _clothes_?

Okay, and other stuff.

Clearly, it was a gradual process, the whole losing-his-mind thing. But it was okay, it was fine. He could deal, and so what if after making a bust, he had the urge to crowd up against Vecchio and curl his fingers around Vecchio's belt and _tug_?

The point was that things...almost, kind of went back to normal. Until a couple days later, when Vecchio showed up near the end of their shifts.

In jeans again.

Ray looked up from his desk and promptly made a sound that some people might consider a squeak. So that was fun. Vecchio's partner glanced in his direction; Ray glared, hackles automatically rising.

He was still glaring when, minutes or seconds or maybe light-years later, Ray pushed Vecchio up against the building wall outside. In the _alley_ , for god's sake; he wasn't even sure how they _got_ there.

"Okay, what is—this, what is this?" he demanded, waved an arm up and down at Vecchio like a demented game show presenter.

Vecchio gave him a look like _Ray_ was the crazy one. Which, okay, fine. That was valid.

"I haven't even _seen_ you all day," Vecchio said at length. "You gotta explain your fits a little better."

It wasn't _fair_. Vecchio looked—he looked just as comfortable in normal clothes as he did in his usual fancy-schmancy stuff, and how annoying was _that_? He didn't even have the decency to look out of his element.

" _This_ \--this whole 'oh, let me wear normal stuff like a normal guy all _out of nowhere_ and confuse the hell outta Kowalski' thing! _That_ , what is, what is that? What are you doing?"

Ray poked Vecchio in the chest once, twice. Feeling crazy all over again, he added, "Do you even _own_ jeans?"

"'Course I do," Vecchio said, glancing down at where Ray was _still_ poking him. "What, you think I _stole_ these and would you _stop_?!" He smacked at Ray's hand, gave an unreadable expression. Curiosity, maybe.

"Answer the question!" Ray said, flailing a little. He got in Vecchio's face, which was a mistake; because wow, his eyes were really green close up, even in a darkened alley with very little light.

"I just _did_ \--oh." Vecchio flattened himself against the wall a bit, then shrugged like he wasn't at all bothered by Ray's attack. "Undercover assignment. Woulda stuck out otherwise."

Oh. Well. That made an impossible amount of sense, and now Ray was kind of embarrassed. Because they were detectives; of _course_ it was an undercover thing, and what was his deal anyway?

"So uh, you still confused?"

Shit. _That_ was his deal. Ray was unnaturally silent as he stared at Vecchio, who looked kind of – amused?

And maybe it was stupid, but Ray was still _transfixed_ by the sight of Vecchio all rumpled, and he wasn't even _trying_ to get away so—

"Nah. Not anymore," was all Ray said before he practically lunged forward and _kissed_ Vecchio.

And he wasn't always the best judge of character when it came to things like this, but when Vecchio made a tiny sound and opened his mouth to let Ray in, Ray gave himself a mental high-five, because _yes_. It turned out his instincts weren't _always_ wrong outside the job.

That was apparently enough for him to pull away and start babbling; lips against Vecchio's long neck, hands smoothing down the front of Vecchio's shirt. _T-shirt_ , Christ.

"God, Vecchio, d'y'know how you _look_ right now? Wear these more often, huh?" His palms slid over Vecchio's denim-covered hips and Vecchio _shivered_. And that, yeah, that just sent a sharp spark of lust down Ray's spine but before he could do anything about it, Vecchio's hands were on his neck, tugging him back, bringing their mouths together again.

Then it was Ray's turn to make an embarrassing little noise because _god_ , Vecchio could kiss once he got over the initial surprise. His fingers on Ray's neck felt so good, so _good_ and who the fuck _cared_ that they were outside by the station anyway when Vecchio's tongue was in his mouth?

Since Ray had never had much patience, he slipped a hand up the back of Vecchio's shirt, pads of his fingers pressing against skin before circling back around to work at the buttons and zipper of Vecchio's jeans. And—fuck, Vecchio was already hard, hard because of _Ray_ , because he didn't think Vecchio was good enough an actor to be picturing someone else.

He grinned against Vecchio's mouth. "Not as comfy as your usual, huh?" he asked, amused and slightly smug as he pulled down the zipper and Vecchio tried unsuccessfully to swallow a moan. He looked slightly confused at the words, so Ray clarified helpfully with, "Jeans're rough on your dick sometimes."

It looked like Vecchio was going to retort with something insulting or defensive or maybe he was just going to say _yes, Kowalski, you're right as always_ , who knew. So Ray dropped to his knees, only wincing a little at how the ground felt underneath, and barely glanced around before he got the jeans open and Vecchio's cock out.

"Jesus, Kowalski, you—" Vecchio cut off; Ray glanced upwards expectantly. Apparently Vecchio wasn't ready for that, because oh look, he still had enough blood to go to his _face_ , and that was kind of endearing. The streetlight closest to them cast just enough of a glow for Ray to _see_ , see the expression on Vecchio's face and his cock so close to Ray's mouth and who could resist that?

Not Ray, that was for sure, and so he wrapped his lips around the head and _sucked_. Build up? Who needed build up? A quick rhythm, uncoordinated and eager, that was Ray's style and as he listened to Vecchio's panting and cut-off _whimpers_ , he figured it was a good choice.

And yeah, _yeah_ , he had one hand tangled in the thin material of Vecchio's shirt, the other pressing against Vecchio's hip, trying to keep him still. But by the time Ray couldn't hold back his own muffled moan, Vecchio started pulling at him, dragging him up.

He went reluctantly, then crowded up against the full length of Vecchio just the way he had imagined, pushing their hips together and gasping at how good something so simple felt. Then they were kissing again, hot and wet and _fuck_ , Vecchio's hand was pulling Ray's zipper down.

There was a flurry of hands and clothing and then – oh _Christ_ , their cocks were aligned and Vecchio bit down on Ray's bottom lip. Which, wow, _that_ sudden spark of pain just made Ray's hips jerk forward.

He put one hand against the wall next to Vecchio's head, inhaled Vecchio's exhales.

Then his own breath _stopped_ ; he watched as Vecchio raised a hand, licked his palm, and _smirked_. Because that was possibly the hottest thing yet in an event of really hot things, and Vecchio's wet hand stroking both their cocks – okay, maybe _that_ was the hottest.

They were just _going_ for it, right there, barely hidden. They _arrested_ people for doing this kind of thing in public. It was fast and rough, on the edge of desperate; hips bucking, the slick slide of sweat and precum between them, and harsh breaths heard between car horns and someone's radio.

"Come on come on come _on_ , fuck, Kowal-- _god_ ," Vecchio managed before he was kissing Ray again, shaking kind of helplessly as he came.

Ray barely had time to think that Vecchio's jeans would probably be ruined after this, and wasn't that a damn _shame_ , before the world shifted and he was done, utterly and completely _finished_.

His next words, instead of anything awkward or embarrassing, were, "We gotta get you in one of my shirts."

And Vecchio, he gave this slow smile that made Ray want to fuck him over a desk, and then laughed, open and easy like it was nothing.


End file.
